Dialogue
by Kelsey Layne
Summary: Mulder & Scully get caught up in an unusual case surrounding the Roswell Incident. The rest is self-explanitory.


Title: Dialogue

Author: Abbie Layne

E-mail: strangethings@www.com

Website: plusonehometown.com (just so ya know, my site sucks as of right now)

Rating: PG. (cuz there's an autopsy, but they don't show any blood and guts) :o(

Timeline: After the whole vampire thing and the movie, but other than that I haven't the faintest clue. Gimme a break! I've only been a fan since August! (but I've been a Lone Gunmen fan since their show premiered, so I'm really ticked off that it was canceled.)

Category: Sci-fi (and if ya wanna get all technical on me, it's also a mystery)

Spoilers: Like I said, I've only been a fan since August. I've only seen maybe 20 episodes, so I don't know enough to add spoilers to a plot. And if you've got a problem with that, well, its part mine and part Parker's fault. It took me 6 years to make that girl a trekkie, then another couple for her to get into sci-fi, then finally she turned me into a Phile (against my will, no less).

Feedback: Hmm, lemma think about that.... DERR! 'Course I want feedback. What fan of the written word wouldn't want to know what people thought of their writing?

Disclaimer: X-Files and all its components belong to Chris Carter, FOX, TPTB, and the gods of Olympus. I created the Hathengers, the Benzes, and Laura/Arian. So, obviously I don't own Mulder and Scully, but I can forge their signatures pretty darn well.

Dedication: Oh please! Let's not get sappy! I started this story while visiting Parker, then got bored outta my wits in class one day and decided to add on to the story. Well apparently if you're still reading the dedication part, you must wanna know whom I dedicate this story to. Fine, I'll dedicate it already! Here Parker, this story is for you. Because of you I'm a Phile and a Shipper. Need I get sappier?! And yes, Parker, "we are Sci-fi," although I've yet to figure out exactly what that means, but I'm sure it "TFO"-ed those people coming out of the mall to hear our insanity.

Author's Notes: I started writing this when Parker was reading some fan-fic on one of the many strange X-Files web-sites. I'd only seen 1, maybe 2 episodes at the time, so please don't condemn me for any inconsistencies. Oh, and if the girl who wrote the story saying something about 'forever' being confusing, the first paragraph is in no way bashing you or your story, it just fueled my inspiration for my first X-Files fan-fic.

All right, I've tortured you long enough with this pre-amble junk. Although, if you read all of what I just wrote, you must be lacking things of better interest to do. You know, I really do pity you if you really did read all of what I said. It's like 10:30 PM right now and I'm tuckered out and dying to watch MASH, so basically I just wrote what came to my mind (which would be the long version). But really, reading all of this? Why can't you people be more like me and skip right over all this insane ranting and raving? Now if you wanted good ranting and raving, you shoulda checked out Freaky Link's site before it was shut down. Oh, for the days of yore and Derek Barnes. 

Now read and enjoy, or I'll sick my evil army of aliens that I've been gathering in Area51 for the last five minutes on you! 

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**Dialogue******

By Abbie Layne****

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            "I read a story where someone said 'forever' was a confusing word to them. Well, actually it was only the first sentence. I stopped reading it right then and there because if you can't comprehend forever, then in my eyes you're an idiot.

            But my point is, what confuses me?

            Love. Not what it is or what it's like, but the emotions required for it. 'Falling in love' sounds like emotional turmoil. I know it scares me to death to fall. 

            'True love;" nothing's true. I've loved every pet I've ever had, but isn't there only supposed to be one?

            'Love at first site.' I'm gonna marry the next thing I see? Sorry, but I'm not marrying that Twix.

            Of all the things in the world to confuse me. You'd think it would be life, but no, life makes perfect sense to me to the extent that I know that it's not possible to understand. Life is basically simple though; you're born, you live, weird stuff happens, and you eventually die. Woohoo, yay, I'll die eventually! Maybe I won't even have to worry about love.

            That would be nice. Life without love. Plain and simple."

            Mulder put the journal down and picked up the picture of the young girl again. She looked so happy, ordinary girl in the picture, but everything he'd read in her journal, so far, sounded like nothing this girl could have written.

            Mulder set the picture with the journal and went to the kitchen. When he came back to the living room he tried to ignore the box. He knew he couldn't, though. There's still more in it; possibly more that would tell him who this girl was.

            He reached in and pulled a T-shirt out. It was Looney Tunes; Taz was on the window of a UFO and it read, "I break for aliens." He wanted to think that perhaps she was a believer, but he knew it was probably nothing more than just a shirt.

            He picked up a stuffed toy that had been buried by the shirt, a green alien with a silly grin. Maybe she does believe, or maybe she's just a sci-fi nut.

            Mulder stuffed the things, except for the alien toy, back into the box with the other things he hadn't looked at. Laying on the couch, he looked at the toy. It reflected the happy look of the girl in the photo.

            Who is she?

*           *            *

(Journal entry)

            "Why exactly was I given life? I don't use it for anything.

            Well, here's some news, Tony's dead. That is exactly why I hate life. He was boycotting at the town hall last night, then I saw the news and he was dead.

            They didn't have a right to do that. He only wanted them to tell the city the truth. They've been holding the truth for half a century and everyone already knows the truth, so why don't they stop with the lame lies and tell us the truth.

            I can't believe I'm saying this. I usually trust people, but since I became friends with Tony I've started questioning everyone. But, he's gone now. He's the only person I've ever known who wasn't afraid to state his opinion. I am who I am because of him.

            Life is unfair. Which is exactly why it's life."

            Scully looked up at Mulder. "You got this where?"

            "It was in a box sitting outside my apartment."

            "Do you think maybe someone just forgot to take the box inside with them?"

            Mulder showed her a tag on the outside of the box. "How many people in my building, do you think, have the name Fox?"

            "Good point. Well, I don't know what to tell you. There's no reason for you to read into this. As far as I'm concerned, it's just a box full of old things."

            "Yeah, but why would someone leave it for me?"

            "Mulder," Scully warned.

            He smiled sheepishly. "It's just that I don't even know who this girl is. That's all I'm saying."

            "Exactly, you don't know her. So just let it go."

            "All right, but what do I do with the box?"

            "If you can't find a name or address, then I guess you should just toss it."

            Mulder said nothing, but picked up the box and left the office.

*           *            *

(Journal entry)

            "It's not all that simple anymore, life, that is. That's all I seem to be stuck on lately. I didn't used to think about life so much. I used to be ready to live just with the thought that I was still breathing.

            That's not enough anymore. I don't have a real flesh-and-blood family; I don't even have any true friends left. They all seem to die or suddenly hate me. I guess that's what I get for living in a small town.

            What's making everyone so different all of a sudden? Everyone I _could_ trust has died, which is way beyond bizarre, and everyone who would at least be friends with won't talk to me and they act like they don't even know me."

            Mulder stared at the last paragraph. This scenario sounded familiar, but, for the first time, he didn't even want to think why. From what he'd learned of the girl so far, he didn't believe she deserved what he thought had happened.

            If only he could figure out where she was from, then there might be some hope that the 'theory' his mind was already forming was way off base.

            What were the clues? There has to be some kind of clue in her journal.

            He flipped through the pages he'd already read.

            A city that was holding back some kind of truth. A secret? And it was small. 

            Maybe the more he read, then the more insight he'd gain.

            He'd already read half of the journal, so he didn't put out much hope. All he'd found out so far was that she'd recently lost her basic perception on life and now despised it, for lack of a better word.

*           *            *

(Journal entry)

            "Life is so complicated! But that's beside the point.

            Friends come, friends go. They take you for everything you've got, then leave ya in the dark to grope for a slim chance that there's still good in people.

            Pardon my for being blunt, but friends suck. For that matter, I've finally learned to trust no one. No one is going to tell the truth, so why should I trust what I know to be a lie?

            Mom and dad lied to me for how many years until I found out they weren't really 'mom' and 'dad'. Social services lied and said my 'real' parents were more than willing to get rid of me.

            They had no choice! They wanted to keep me! I know it's the truth. But why would anyone lie to me about that? At least I understand that dictionary now. I remember when I was seven, I had just learned to read and was looking around the house for another book. I found a box in 'mom's' closet with the name 'Arian' on it. I knew it had to be mine since that's my middle name. Anyway, I decided to dig through it and I found a kind of tattered dictionary. 'Mom' found me with the box and, of course, I got in trouble, but I had hidden the dictionary.

            Later, when I got the chance to go through it, I found a note that said 'I'm sorry. Never look down and face the world with all your strength.' It was dated the day after my birthday.

            Yes, I know it's a little cheesy, but it always intrigued me. I recently found the dictionary when I was re-arranging my room. I looked at that note for who knows how many hours before something occurred to me. Arian is not a common name, in fact, I've never heard of anyone else with the name. I looked it up in a name book, nothing. I looked it up in the dictionary, it was circled; a suffix variously denoting age, sect, social belief, or occupation'.

            It doesn't make sense to me, but it has to mean something."

            Mulder smiled to himself. "Nice to meet you Arian." Finally, an actual lead.

            If Arian isn't a common name, then there has to be some way to track down anyone with the name. 

            He put the journal back into the box and headed downstairs to his car. 

*           *            *

(Journal entry)

            "Strange things are happenin'! Well, not _that _strange. I mean, after the past few months, is it really all that much of a surprise?

            It's official, everyone in town has been invaded by the freak-gene, that is, except for me. Anyone who hasn't started wiggin' out on me is so obviously dead.

            Why do I have to be the only one not effected by what's going on? At least, I don't think I've been affected. But it's just really strange. 

            I don't usually get paranoid, but in this case I feel it's my right.

            I don't want to even describe some of the weird things I've seen. If I wrote them down it would be like admitting I'm crazy.

            Imagine if the wrong person got a hold of this journal! I could be locked away for life! I'd rather let everyone be creepy and just go with the flow.

            I almost wish that when I go to sleep tonight, I won't wake up, or at least for this to all turn out to be a bizarre dream.

            But this is no dream. This is a living nightmare."

            "That's all she wrote, Mulder."

            "I know, and I don't like it ending that way." Mulder took the journal from Langley.

            "So who exactly is your girlfriend," Frohike asked.

            Mulder ignored him. "Is there anything in her journal you could use to find anything out?"

            "It would help to know who 'her' is, but I think the one name may help a lot."

            Byers was sitting in a chair beside Mulder and hadn't said a thing. "Somethin' wrong, Byers?" He didn't respond. "Byers?"

            He looked at Frohike blankly. "What?"

            "What's wrong, man?"  
            "Oh, uh, nothing. It's just that that name sounds familiar."

            "Arian," Mulder asked. "Do you know why?"  
            "I'm not sure."

            Mulder sighed and stood up. "Thanks guys." He picked up the box, leaving the journal and photo, then headed for the door.

            Byers looked up just before Mulder stepped outside. "Roswell."

            "What about it?"

            Byers started shuffling through a stack of papers on a shelf. "Do we have any back-issues from last November?"

            "I threw those out last month," Frohike said.

            "Langley, could you find the issue for November tenth?"

            "Yeah, sure."

            "What is it," Mulder asked coming to stand behind Langley at his computer.

            "There was a little town just outside Roswell called Dexter that was deserted last year."

            "Yeah," Langley said, "here it is. Reports said that everyone went from normal to almost zombie-like. Several people died and one girl disappeared, then everyone started moving out of town."

            "The girls name?"

            "Laura A. Benz. A. standing for-"

            "-For Arian," Mulder finished for Byers. "Do you have any pictures?"

            "Right here." Langley held the picture from the box by a picture on the screen. "The exact same picture."

            Mulder pulled his cell phone from his pocket. "Scully? Remember that journal? Yeah, I read into it...I know, but I've got some information...The Gunmen...Just meet me at the airport and I'll tell you then."

*           *            *

            "Innocence in unabashed eyes

Is there truly unknowing 

in this child's soul?

Unaware of everyday torment

as though from other worlds

Know she not of the pain

that plagues her race?

She is hidden in the dark 

away from fears of light.

Seen is the hatred in others;

known too full well of the 

internal fight.

Banishment to a far off land

where pain is first-hand witnessed.

Fear of a new magnitude

envelops this quiet soul.

Unwittingly discovered is a pureness

which she holds as dear as life.

Flight from evils who wish

to consume

is an endeavor of no hope.

Crying out for freedom;

She screams for help.

None will come,

for none exists.

Prayers from a silent tongue,

unheard in the confusion

of the moment.

A gripping fear,

She has now seen.

Dreams will never be the same."

            "What's that," Scully asked.

            "A poem," Mulder said as he folded the sheet of paper and put it in his shirt pocket.

            "I didn't know you liked poetry."

            "Oh, uh, no, it was in Laura's journal. I'm trying to understand what she might have been going through."

            "I still don't understand what you think you're going to find."

            "I don't know. I have absolutely no idea, but if there's some way we could help this girl, then I'm going to find it."

            "Mulder, you have to consider the possibility that she's dead."

            "Don't, Scully. Just don't start with me."

            "I'm just trying-"

            "No. Don't you think I know she might be dead?" Mulder leaned against the window.

            "I'm sorry, Mulder."

            Mulder was hoping to take a nap during the flight, but as he watched the clouds, he couldn't make himself stop thinking long enough to sleep.

            "I know she's probably dead, Scully, but I don't want her to have died in vain. If there's any chance that this girl's alive don't you think she might need help? I can't just let this go. Believe me, I've tried, but I don't think this box of stuff just happened to be left for me. I think that someone was asking me to help."

            Scully didn't say anything. There wasn't anything she could say. Mulder wanted to help this girl. Who is she to stop him? She hasn't before.

*           *            *

            "Life.

Death.

What's the difference?

Infamy.

Brilliance.

It's all the same.

Crowded room.

Lonesome stream.

I'm a misfit wherever I go."

            "Is that a poem or a suicide not?"

            "Very funny, Scully. I think it's a good poem."

            "And how exactly would you know?"

            "I admit I'm no Plato, but I like it."

            "Excuse me, but is this how you always conduct yourselves on a case?"

            "I'm sorry, Mrs. Hathenger. Mulder's just a little side-tracked lately."

            "That's all right, ma'am. Everyone tends to get a little side-tracked 'round this ghost town," Mr. Hathenger said. 

            "Uh, Mr. Hathenger, how is it that you and your wife didn't leave Dexter with everyone else?"

            "Oh, we didn't move here till everyone moved away."

            "Why exactly," Scully asked.

            "Well, I 'spect it was just about the same reason the two 'o you are here."

            "And that would be," Mulder prompted.

            "We're lookin' for our granddaughter, Arian."

            "You mean Laura Benz," Mulder asked a bit surprised.

            "Well, that was her adopted name-"

            "She'll always be our sweet Arian," Mrs. Hathenger interrupted.

            "How did  you know we were looking for Arian?"

            "That's why everyone comes here, Ms. Scully."

            "Ever since some stupid gossip paper printed a story about her, those supposed 'alien abductees' have come from miles around to see this place."

            "Excuse me, I hate to cut into this intriguing conversation, but could I ask you a few questions?"

            "Certainly, Mr. Mulder. We'd like to help anyway possible if it means finding our Arian."

            "Could you tell me why Arian's parents chose to give her up for adoption?"

            "Chose, my foot! They were threatened!"

            "By whom?"

            "Well, there are several different stories, and my husband tends to get riled up by any number of them."

            "Just keep your nose out of this, Clarice, and let me tell them what happened.

            "Now, as I was saying, our boy, Jeff, and his wife, Mya, were threatened. You see, Mya came from a strange lot o' folks. They had all these strange beliefs."

            "No good Protestant beliefs, mind you."

            Mr. Hathenger glared at his wife, then continued. "They were a cult of some sort, Mya had told us. Mostly they believed in aliens; they lived by alien law, whatever that is.

            "Mya, the poor thing, wanted nothing to do with her people. When she married Jeff, she had hoped they would leave her alone, and, for a while, they did. Once Arian come along everything changed. They had named her Aria because they loved music, but somehow it was changed on the birth certificate. Turns out, Arian was a name havin' to do with that cult. Looked it up once, means somethin' like 'social sect' or somethin' in the like.

            "Around Arian's first birthday they started gettin' all sorts of threats. Mya was too scared to go to the police, so they tried to ignore 'em. It worked until them heathens threatened to kill the whole lot of us if they didn't give the girl up.

            "Poor Jeff was heart-broken. He'd loved his baby-girl . Police say it was murder/suicide, but there's no way Jeff woulda harmed Mya, let alone kill himself."

            "Wait a second," Mulder interrupted, "you mean that Arian's parents are dead?"

            "Sure as the sun-sets. I like to have died myself when I saw their caskets lowered into the ground."

            "Jeff was our only child," Mrs. Hathenger spoke up. "All his love had been stored up for his wife and baby, and I will never believe him capable of murder."

*           *            *

            "Shrouded in proof, You're the mystery. You're the truth that lives within the world we see. You're the hand that holds destiny and I can't pretend I don't know and I can't leave it alone. You're the best kept secret in my generation. The best kept secret of all time. You're the best kept secret in my generation and I found you out...."

            Mulder turned the CD off that had started when he turned the light on.

            "Beth and Harry said that girl was a whiz with electronics. I ain't yet to o' heard of anyone else hookin' a radio up to their light switch."  
            "Did you speak with Arian's adopted parents often?"

            "At times. They understood us loosing our children and grand-baby all at once. They wanted us to always be a part o' her life, but we ain't seen her since she was ten or eleven."

            "Why did you stop seeing her?"  
            "Times change, I 'spose. I guess we just didn't get 'round t' comin' the past few years."

            "Mr. Hathenger," Mulder said, "do you have any idea as to what happened to your granddaughter?"

            "I wish we did, Mr. Mulder, but all I know is Arian disappeared, then a week later Beth and Harry moved."

            "Do you know why they moved?"

            "They said this ol' town gave 'em the creeps."

            "Why?"

            "Well, fer one, so many people were dying and then several of the towns folk  started actin' a wee bit strange. It rightfully scared 'em off. And, ya know , the strangest of it yet is everyone who died was Arian's friends."

            Mulder looked at Scully then back at Mr. and Mrs. Hathenger. "Are the two of you going to be staying in the area?"

            "Yep; till we find somethin' out 'bout Arian, we'll be staying right here."

            "Good. Thank you for your help." Mulder escorted Scully to the door. "You gonna tell me how useless it was to come out here?"

            "All right, I admit it. There is something a little off about the whole situation."

            "A little? You're tellin' me a girl disappearing, people dying, and a town being abandoned for no apparent reason is just 'a little' strange?"

            "Mulder, you know there has to be some rational explanation for this. Maybe Laura ran away."

            "Arian."

            "What?"

            "Her name is Arian."

            "So it bothers you to use her adopted name?"

            "No, it's just that Arian is her real name."

            "Mulder, I think you're taking this on a personal level."

            "What's that supposed to mean?"

            "Nothing, Mulder, absolutely nothing. Let's just go find a hotel and I'll take another look at that journal."

*           *            *

(Journal entry)

            "It hurts so much now that Tony's dead. He was my best friend. We talked together. We laughed together. We 'conspired' together. We were even going to graduate together.

            My heart is broken, and here I am never wanting to love. I know I loved Tony. Not in any 'I want to marry you' way, but beyond that. I don't know, we just connected beyond any describable level.

            I loved him, but I wasn't in love with him. There, that's more like it.

            Tony was just the most awesome guy to know. I'm going to miss him so much."

            Scully knocked on Mulder's door. When he opened it she was a little surprised by his appearance. His pants and shirt were wrinkled, tie hanging around his neck and partly tucked in his shirt pocket, and hair tangled.

            "Bad night?"

            "You have no idea." He pulled his tie off and threw it in a nearby chair then motioned for Scully to come in. "I don't think I slept a wink."

            "I'd ask why, but I don't think I really care."

            Mulder smiled quizzically. "Find something interesting," he asked looking at the journal in Scully's hand.

            "Yes, actually. I was wondering about some of the notes you made in the margins."

            "They were just some thoughts I had."

            "Yes, but on this page when Tony died, you put 'who's Tony? Not normal.' What did you mean?"

            "Well, just that what normal teenage boy can up and change someone's whole outlook on life?"

            "According to the next entry, he just sounds like a boyfriend she 's love-sick over."

            "What makes you think that?"

            "She loved him."

            "But she wasn't 'in love' with him."

            "Did you memorize this whole journal?"

            "No, I-just have a photographic memory."

            "Sure, Molder."

            "Look, Scully, it fits perfectly that he was a plant.:"

            "How?"

            "Mr. Hathenger said his daughter-in-laws was raised by a cult and they had to give Arian up."

            "Why would they need a plant?"

            "Whatever cult this was wasn't happy with them giving her up. They wanted Mya back, and her family. So Tony's family moved in, gained Arian's trust, and introduced her into the world of aliens."

            "What about the rest of the town?"

            "Brain-washed."

            "Brain--Mulder, this is just too far fetched a story for any reasonable person to believe."

            "The Lone Gunmen believed it."

            "Your point being?"

            "Yeah, all right, it sounds stupid, but so did vampires."

            "Mulder, just give this up. It's not even an X-File, it's just a personal--no, it's not even personal! This has absolutely nothing to do with you."

            "That box was given to me, that makes it personal."

            "All right then, let's find out where that box came from." Scully picked up Mulder's cell-phone and handed it to him.

            "What?"

            "Call the Hathengers. Find out where Beth and Harry moved."

            Mulder took his phone and dialed the number given him the night before. "Mrs. Hathenger? Yes, Agent Mulder. Could you, perhaps, tell me where Beth and Harry Benz moved?" Mulder paused a moment and listened to the woman on the other end, then started to write something on his hand. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Hathenger."

            "Well?" Mulder held out his hand. "Number 46, St. Luke Institution Incorporated. What is that?"

            "That, Scully, would be a mental ward in DC and an apartment two doors down from my own."

            "Really, that is truly fascinating. And what's with he asylum?"

            "Apparently, Harry Benz went a little cuckoo last winter. Now, what's really fascinating, Scully, is that he claims aliens kidnapped his daughter."

            "You don't say."

            "Would you like to say 'I told you so' or should I?"

            "I'll pull the car around and call the airport."

            "Would you, really? That would be so kind."

*           *            *

            As Mulder entered the lobby he was greeted by Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.

            "This atmosphere of this place alone is enough to make you go crazy."

            "May I help you," a short man at the front desk asked.

            "I'm here to see Harry Benz," Mulder said.

            "I'm sorry, but Mr. Benz isn't seeing anyone at the moment."

            "He will be when you take me to him." Mulder held up his badge.

            "Well, what do you know, he's taking visitors now."

            "I had a feeling he was."

            The man led Mulder through a hall then stopped halfway through at a door. "You may have twenty minutes with Mr. Benz."

            Mulder stepped into a large padded room and looked around. A man was laying face up on the floor in a corner humming the Jeopardy theme song.

            "Harry Benz?"

            "That would be me; I am he."

            "Mr. Benz, I'm Agent Mulder. I'm investigating the disappearance of your daughter."

            "I have a daughter?"

            "Yes, sir. Her name is Laura. She disappeared last November."

            "Really? Nah, can't be. No daughter of mind would go missing."

            "Mr. Benz, do you remember Clarice and Thomas Hathenger?"

            "Those nice old people? They're my daughter's grandparents."

            "So you do remember Laura?"

            "Who?"

            "Mr. Benz," Mulder said in frustration, "do you or don't you have a daughter?"

            "Of course I do; her name's Laura."

            "Really." Mulder gave up on any direct questions. "Is she around anywhere?"

            "Nah, she disappeared."

            "Any idea where?"

            "She didn't go anywhere. The aliens kidnapped her."

            "You saw aliens take her?"

            "Of course not. I saw their ship take off after they picked her up."

            "Any idea why they wanted her?"

            "Who wanted her?"

            "The aliens."

            "What aliens?"

            "The one's who took Laura."

            "Who's Laura?"

            Scully knocked on the door of apartment 46.

            "Who is it," a woman asked from inside.

            "Agent Scully. I was hoping-" the door opened before she could finish her sentence.

            "Have you found Laura?"

            "Then you did leave that box for Agent Mulder?"

            "Yes, of course I did. Have you found Laura? Is she safe? No one hurt her did they?"

            "Mrs. Benz, I'm sorry to tell you, but we haven't found Laura. I was hoping to ask you a few questions."

            "Yes, anything. Please come in. Could I get you something; tea?"

            "No thank you. Could you please tell me why exactly you left that box for Mulder?"

            "I'd heard he was an FBI agent that believed in, well, kind of strange things."

            "Who 'd you hear that from?"

            "I, uh, I'm not supposed to tell you."

            "Have you ever heard of the Lone Gunmen, Mrs. Benz?"  
            "No, I've never read their paper." When Mrs. Benz realized what she'd said she tried to defend herself. "Agent Scully, you have to understand. My husband and I are desperate to find Laura. We're willing to do anything."

            "Mrs. Benz, I'm sure you are, but Agent Mulder and myself are not meant to service people private vendettas. We are government employees, and we can no longer pursue this case without assignment."

            "Please, you have to help us. I lost my daughter and my husband. There's no chance of even getting my husband back if I don't get my daughter back. There's no one else who can help."

            Scully sighed. "I'll speak with my superiors. If they okay it, then Mulder and I will do what we can."

            Mulder was sitting at his desk aiming a pencil at the ceiling when Scully came in.

            "What did you find out," she asked.

            "Harry Benz is a nut-case. You learn anything new?"

            "Other than the fact Mrs. Benz did leave the box for you?" Mulder nodded and smiled dryly. "She's desperate to find her daughter. I told her I'd talk to Skinner and see what more we could do."

            "Don't bring Skinner into this."

            "Too late," Skinner said as he came in. "I have to okay any case you work on, Mulder. Seeing as how this isn't a classified X-File, I don't want to, but Scully's told me how much you've already worked on this and how important it seems to be to you. I guess I really have no choice in this."

            "Thank you, sir."

            "But you finish this as soon as possible. I need you free for any other cases that may come up."

            "Yes, sir."

            Mulder walked into his apartment and found Frohike and Byers waiting for him.

            "You guys find something?"

            "Not really, but we got the film from your box developed."

            Mulder took the photos from Frohike and flipped through them. "The film was exposed," he said in frustration.

            "Actually," Byers said, "it wasn't. We blew some of the photos up and lightened them." He handed Mulder the enlarged photos. "They're silhouetted, but if you look close enough you might recognize some things."

            Mulder squinted at the first photo. He could make out a window and a man. The next one was clearer. There were a few trucks and more people. He could almost recognize the man's profile. The last photo had been digitized and the man's profile was perfectly clear. "Cigarette Smoking Man."

            "Langley ran it through the computer and matched the profile to enhance the features."

            "How can you say that?!"

            "I'm not denying that it could be him, Mulder. I'm just saying there's reasonable doubt. You said Langley enhanced a photo full of shadows, so how do you know the picture wasn't distorted to look like him?"

            "All right, I'll give you that, but who's to say he's not behind Laura's disappearance? What is she's the subject of some bizarre experiment?"

            "Mulder, Laura Benz is missing. We're going to help find her, but we're not going to accuse anyone." 

            "I'm not accusing anyone, Scully. But if we find out who was involved in her disappearance, then we just might have a better chance of finding her."

            "Fine, you look for proof of his involvement, in the meantime I'm going to call Mrs. Benz."

*           *            *

            Mrs. Benz sighed. "I don't know. She and Tony spent a lot of time together in different places. I know there was one place she really liked, I just--I don't know where it was. Laura tended to keep secrets from us. Several of the places she went were--wait! It was the reservoir. It was a few miles from Dexter, Two Rivers Reservoir."

            "Thank you, Mrs. Benz." After reassuring her they were doing what they could, Scully hung up.

            She dialed Skinner's number. "Sir? In New Mexico there's Two Rivers Reservoir. Yes, sir, it's outside Roswell. I was hoping you could make some calls and have the reservoir drained. Thank you, sir."

            "You're having the reservoir drained? Why?"

            "Call it a hunch."

*           *            *

            Scully walked with Mrs. Benz into the morgue. The attendant led them to a covered body. He uncovered the head.

            Scully cringed. The flesh was somewhat mangled. She assumed it was because of the rocks at the bottom of the reservoir. Some of the skin had even been eaten away; she didn't even want to guess about that.

            Mrs. Benz paled and lost her balance. Scully steadied her. "Mrs. Benz, is this your daughter?"

            "Yes," she whispered.

            "Do you know if she was depressed?" Mrs. Benz shook her head. "Can you think of any reason she may have had to commit suicide?"

            "No, none. Laura loved life. She would never have killed herself."

            "In that case, I would like your permission to do an autopsy."

            "Why?"

            "I won't really know until after one is done. If, for some reason, some one killed her, I may find some kind of drug in her body. I don't' really know."

            "Fine, then. Do whatever would help." Mrs. Benz turned around and left the room.

            Mulder walked into the morgue and found Scully standing over an open body.

            "I still can't believe you found her, Scully."

            "I'm not too sure we did."

            "What?"

            "Look at this. The physiology, Mulder. It doesn't match any I've ever seen, not even after severe radiation."

            "What are you saying?"

            "I'm saying that there's no possible way this is Laura Benz's corpse. There's not even any possible way this could be a human corpse."

            "I don't understand. Are you saying Laura may still be alive?"

            "It's possible."

            "Have you told Mrs. Benz yet?"

            "No."

            Mulder started to dial his cell phone.

            "Mulder, wait. Don't call her."

            "Why?"

            "Mrs. Benz believes her daughter is dead. What do you think it might do to her to find out her daughter is alive somewhere, and someone went to great extremes to make it appear as though she were dead. We have no explanation for her."

            "I have an explanation."

            "Mulder, I'm talking about a rational explanation. How would you feel if your daughter were dead and wife was psychologically disturbed, and all of a sudden someone who was supposed to find your daughter comes and tells you 'your daughter's not dead. She was abducted by aliens and the body in the morgues is only an alien replicant.'"

            "Do you realize what you just said?"

            "Yes, Mulder, but I was saying that hypothetically. Besides, I know that's what you were thinking." Scully sighed in frustration. She didn't like having to defend herself.

            "All right, point taken. So I guess we'll just tell Mrs. Benz that her daughter was murdered by an unknown perp."

            "We'll tell her Laura committed suicide."

            "Yeah, that'll take a load off her mind."

            "At least she won't spend the rest of her life wondering who would kill her daughter."

*           *            *

            "...Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me. Starlight and dew drop are waiting for thee...."

            The notes of Laura's favorite song played in her mind as she slept peacefully in her bed of ice. No other occupants were in the chamber; she was kept alone.

            The life form she was to carry died from undetermined causes. She was kept alone from fear of contamination to the other carriers.

            Unbeknownst to her abductors, she had been inoculated as a child. The cult of her mother's family hoped that someday she may be their savior.

The End.


End file.
